Medium Rare
by Citizen Kane
Summary: Weekly One Shot. Calico's, strippers & stakes, oh my! Throw in a peach cobbler, blend, and serve chilled. Are you afraid yet? Eric, Sookie, Gran, Clancy, Bubba, Claude.


***disclaimer**: I do not own the Southern Vampire Series or any of the characters featured below. All rights belong to Charlaine Harris. Unbeta-ed

I couldn't come up with explanation of this piece. And actually, if you can think of a proper synopsis for me to use after you've read it, please include it in your reviews. If you haven't run for the hills, take my hand and let's roll...

Medium Rare

One shot Challenge

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_To Adele Stackhouse's home circa 1986…_

I was carrying a basket of laundry down the hall when I saw her sitting on her hope chest under the window. I set the basket down and watched my little angel stare out the pane of glass in her new bedroom. She had the same gold hair her daddy had and with the sunlight shining on her like that, you could almost see a halo around her tiny head.

"Sugar. You want some help unpacking?" I asked, as I stepped lightly into my old guest room and sat at the edge of the bed.

"No thank you, gran," she said in her sweet voice that had a little jingle to it. She never turned her head around.

"Well, honey, what can I help you with?" I asked, looking around the room at all the boxes and luggage. She wouldn't let me touch a thing, she'd told me she wanted to do it all by herself, like a big girl.

"Can you bring'em back gran?" she said as her voice cracked.

"Oh, Sookie," I said and rushed to her side. I sat on the edge of the chest and wrapped my arms around my sweet girl.

"Why, gran? Why'd God take Mama and Daddy?" she said with tears streaming down her pink cheeks. I squeezed her real tight, I was so afraid for my baby.

"Sugar, God wanted them with him now. They're safe now and you will see them again, one day, a long time from now. And they're still loving you, honey, all the way from heaven above, they're still loving you," I said as I cradled her, rocking her back and forth, and I shed a tear or two myself.

"It's…not…fair," she said in quietly as she hiccupped through her sobs. She raised the back of her soft little hand and tried to wipe away her tears with her little knuckles. This was the first time she'd cried since the night we told her.

"I know," I whispered into her hair, "It sure don't seem that way," I said as I stared out the window with her, out into our grassy yard and the woods beyond. We just stayed in the warmth of the daylight for a while, together. The sun was high in the sky and the clouds were few and far between. It was a beautiful day out.

"Sugar, why don't you come with your granny, huh? We can go for a walk and chase butterflies. What do you think?" I asked wiping away the last of my tears.

"No thank you," she said sadly.

I just didn't know what to do to help her. She was taking this real hard and her life was already hard enough. She didn't deserve all the burdens life had given her and I wished I could help her. I wished there was something I could do to change all this for her. I was scared for my baby girl. I hugged her tight and didn't wanna let go.

"Why?" She looked up at me with her big ol' blue eyes, scrunching her face together in confusion.

"Why what, baby doll?" I asked sweetly as I smoothed her hair back.

"Why are you scared for me?" She inquired, looking very concerned. More concerned than any seven-year old girl should ever have to look. If there was anything that wasn't fair, it was _this_. This _damn_---Peach cobbler, peach cobbler, peach cobbler, peach cobbler, peach cobbler…

"Gran, you sure do think about peach cobbler a lot," she said with a sigh.

"I just happen to like it, that's all," I said sincerely. The truth is every time I caught myself thinking something you shouldn't be thinking in front of an seven-year old that knows what you're thinking…well, it sounds confusing, explaining it to you now, but reciting 'peach cobbler' in your head over and over again to block out foul language actually worked out pretty well for me and Sookie.

"Sugar, if I show you how to make one would you help me?" I said hopefully.

"You really love it, huh?" she asked, "Just like how I love ice cream?"

"Yes, but I would love it even more if you helped. And I think I've got a little vanilla ice cream we can put right on top."

"Okay," she said whispered.

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_At Claude's strip club, The Meat Market present day…_

Man, he was really something. Jean-Pierre, our newest hire. He was on the stage now shaking it and gyrating away to "Welcome to the Jungle." I mean this boy could _move_. That's why he was surrounded by a dozen women throwing dollar bills on stage like confetti at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. He was already our biggest attraction and with a body like that, I understood the appeal. He was ripped like a Calvin Klein model and had a face to match. I could see his muscles flexing and rippling with every movement under the strobe and multi-colored lights that blinked and flashed all over him like a rainbow. What a hunk. It was just too bad he was straight. The music began to wind down, and he took a bow and collected his earnings from the stage floor. I turned back around to the bartender.

"Alright ladies, we're gonna take a quick break between sets, but we'll be right back with a special treat. All the way from Kenya, Mandingo!!" the DJ announced over the speakers system and then began playing "Closer" by NIN.

"Give me a seven and seven, pops," I said to Ralph, our bartender.

"Coming right up," he said as he flung his bar towel over his shoulder.

"How'd I do Claude?" Jean-Pierre asked from behind me. I turned around slowly and watched him as he ran his fingers back through his silky dark hair. Jean-Pierre was actually Chet Rawlings from a small corn farm in Iowa, but his stage name was more befitting his presence. He had been in the stripping game for years now, down the street at our competitor's place, Ske-Daddies, so it was a huge coup for us to steal him away.

"Honey, you did great," I said giving him a smile. He still had on his stage costume; a blue sequined thong that was currently stretched within inches of its elastic life.

"Yeah?" he said as he leaned back against the bar resting on his elbows, sweat glistening on his pecs and down his six-pack. The slope down from his pecs to his thigh was mouthwatering.

"Oh, yes," I said eying him seductively. Hey, he could switch teams. It wasn't unheard of. And I was very good looking myself, so if _anyone_ had a chance it was me.

"Are you ever gonna give up?" he said chuckling as he brushed some beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"No," I said simply with a smile.

"Here's your drink, boss," Ralph said from behind the bar, handing me the seven and seven.

"Thank you kindly, sir," I said to Ralph as I took the drink from his hands, "For you," I said passing the drink to Jean-Peirre. His raised one eyebrow above his pale blue eye curiously at my gesture and then accepted the drink.

"Thanks," he said in amusement and took a sip of his drink, "But it's going to take a lot more than _one_ drink to get _me_ in bed, Claude," he said and chuckled again.

"Fortunately, I own a bar," I replied and winked. He rolled his eyes.

"I mean really, Jean-Pierre, I just don't get it," I said in bewilderment, "What the hell do you see in women?"

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_And back at Fangtasia, still present day…_

"Hey Clancy"

"Hey Bubba," _you fucking driveling moron_. I was sitting in the employee lounge in peace until this mongrel wandered in wearing a stained partly unbuttoned Hawaiian print shirt with camo cargo shorts. Couldn't that prick Bill dress him any better that? They're probably secret lovers, not that Bubba would have a clue what was happening.

"Whatcha doin?" he slurred out. What a creature this guy is.

"What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?" I snapped and kicked the chair next to me from my seated position, but it wasn't his fault I was so pissed off, "Sorry, I didn't mean to take it out on you. It's just that that dickhead Eric grounded me for the night, so I'm not making any money," I hissed out.

"Whadya do?" he asked as he pulled a TrueBlood out of the fridge and popped the top.

"Nothing," I said indignantly.

Bubba looked skeptically down at me.

"Alright, I guess I did a little something, but I didn't deserve to be taken off the floor and banished to this rat hole of a break room for it," I huffed.

He looked confused as he dragged a chair out, scraping it along the floor like nails on a chalkboard, and plopped down in it. He tilted his head, looking at me quizzically, and began scratching his sideburns.

"Alright, I'll tell you, but it's really nothing. It was pretty funny actually, you'll get a kick out of this," I said as I leaned in conspiringly, "So, I went in his office and took that picture out, you know the one of that weird human chick?" Eric is such a wuss. He kept a picture of a girl that wasn't even _his_ in his top drawer. I walked in one day and caught him staring at it. He was like a little girl: all googly-eyed, fawning over it. Lame.

"Sookie?" he said curiously.

"Yeah, that bitch. So I took the picture out and I drew some nipples on it, right?" He nodded, "So then, I taped it up in the men's bathroom mirror and wrote 'I give good head' on it!" I leaned back and started laughing so hard my chair almost fell over.

"Funny," Bubba said, not laughing. I sat up in my chair and cleared my throat.

"But that's not the funny part. The funny part was—get this— put her phone number on it!" I really started cracking up then. "The look on Eric's face was priceless!" I said through the last of my chuckles.

"That's funny," Bubba said stoically as he raised his drink to his lips. Screw him. He wouldn't know comedy if it slapped him in the face.

"Man, I'm ready to go out and have some fun tonight," he said anxiously tapping his foot on the floor.

"What do you mean?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"Ya know, like the good ol' days. Go out and get some blood. Not this bottled stuff. It don't taste that good," he said and made a bitter face.

"I hear you, brother, I hear you," I said shaking my head, "I hate this mainstreaming. Why should we sell out? It's like caging a lion. Now we've become domesticated household pets to these humans," I said with contempt. I was a beast not to be caged. I used to _hunt_. Now I pour Mai-tai's for frat boys five days a week. We've lost all our balls.

"You know what? Let's do it. Let's go catch some _prey_," I said villainously.

"Really?" he asked.

"Hell yes. Let's do what we were _made_ to do," I hissed.

"I'm game. Let's rock n' roll," he said scooting his chair back.

"Well alright then!" I said enthusiastically, and we headed out the back door.

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_Back in time at the Stackhouse residence…_

I was kneading the dough for the pastry crust and humming my favorite little tune about fairies in the garden as I stared out the kitchen window.

"Gran?" Sookie asked in her cute little voice. _Just like jingle bells_ I thought to myself.

"Yes, sugar?" I looked down at her. She was leaning against the kitchen counter. One arm was sprawled across the counter as she rested her head on it and the other was rolling peaches under her palm on the countertop. She was staring at the fruit intently.

"You take the fur off before you eat it, right?" she asked, still rolling peaches.

I laughed long and hard for the first time in two weeks. It was one of those _kids say the darnedest things_ moments. When I finally composed myself from my fit of laughter, I looked down again and saw she was smiling her big beautiful smile, the one that hadn't crossed my little angels face in weeks, and in that moment, I knew in my heart we were gonna be alright.

She moved over to me and wrapped her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly.

"We're gonna be alright, gran." she said quietly.

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_Back at The Meat Market with Claude and Jean-Pierre…_

"Just look at them," he said gesturing his hand to the mostly female crowd of swaying bodies, "They've got it all. Boobs, ass, and I won't even mention the best part," he said as he smiled broadly.

"Don't be perverse," I said to him. Like I really wanted to hear about lady parts. Gross.

"Check this one out," he said nodding his head towards a woman seated at the table in front of us.

"Yeah, so what?" I said. They all looked the same to me.

"Watch this," he said with a wink. He whistled and the woman stopped her conversation and turned her attention to us. He smiled a dazzling smile and she returned it with a sultry look. Then he ran his hand down his chiseled chest, all the way down to the sequins below and wagged his eyebrows. She responded by uncrossing her legs and recrossing them a la Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, revealing her...cha-cha.

"Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick," I said grimacing and sheilding my eyes with my hand.

"Tasty," he said , maintaining eye contact with the woman and running his tongue seductively along his top lip.

"You at least take the fur off before you eat it,right?" I said sarcastically in my repulsion.

He just laughed heartily and took a sip of his drink. Then he headed over to her table.

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_Now rejoining Bubba and Clancy…_

"Dude, this is _not_ what I had in mind," I said as I looked around the thorny low brush that we were currently standing in, out back of Fangtasia.

"Gimme a minute, I almost got her," Bubba muttered as he was crouched down next to me, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty."

"What the fuck Bubba!" I said as he popped up from his crouch holding a calico.

"Man, it don't get better than this right here," he said licking his lips as his fangs slowly extended, sputtering and stalling as they did. Whatever idiot changed him over needs to meet the sun for this piece of stupidity. I sniffed the cat out of curiosity and really it didn't smell that bad. I pricked one fingernail into its side and it meowed as I drew a little blood.

"You take the fur off before you eat it, right?" I said licking my finger. Bubba didn't answer, he just curled the cat into his arms and began snuggling it and cooing at it.

"What's up man? Are we gonna do this or what?" I asked excitedly. The blood was pretty good.

"You won't be doing anything tonight," I heard a voice from behind me. Oh, shit. Bubba looked up from the kitty at me and smiled broadly.

"Oh, hey Eric," I said quickly and spun around. I looked down and saw he had a stake in one hand, inches from my chest, and his other hand formed a fist ready to pound.

"Goodbye Clancy," he said and smiled.

_The End._


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